Facing the breaking sky
Title: Facing the breaking sky
Author:
alles_luege
Pairing: Gerard/Brendon
Rating: PG
Summary: Brendon appears at the oddest times in the oddest places, and Gerard thinks that this just can’t be his life. Because it’s so fucking weird.
Warning(s): kissing and well kinda supernatural themes as well
Author’s Notes: For littleladypunk . Also, I don’t even know how this happened. I guess because Brendon is kinda magical.
Word Count: 1.696
Beta: tygermine
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
~+~
Gerard was having a smoke outside because his bitch of a brother quit smoking and was now banishing everyone who so much as looked like they were about to light up in his living room, out into the garden. A few steps away from his feet, a boy landed on the fucking grass. Face down. Gerard took a deep drag and if he didn’t know that he wasn’t drunk, he would think it was one of these things that come out of his head to torment him. Again. He let out the smoke slowly and then threw the butt of the cigarette carelessly onto the grass. (He knew that Mikey would bitch about it, but he just couldn’t muster up the energy to care right now.) Taking a deep breath he took the first step in the boy’s direction.
“Hey, kid!” he said a bit too quietly for his liking. The boy turned to lie on his back and Gerard was taken aback; that kid was smiling up to the sky. Why did this shit happen to him? All. The. Fucking. Time.
“Are you okay?” He asked, and even as he asked it he knew it was a totally stupid question, because the kid was grinning.
“Where am I?” he asked, not turning from the sky. Gerard took another few steps and looked at the kid’s face. It was a bit scratched, from the face down landing in the grass he suspected.
“My brother’s lawn.” Gerard answered taking out another cigarette.
The kid rolled his eyes. “Obviously it’s someone’s lawn and not mine, where am I?” he said.
Right, Gerard thought, right. “Jersey,” he answered.
“Hey, I know you!” the kid said suddenly and got up, to sit cross legged on the crass.
“Maybe? I don’t know you, kid.”
“Don’t call me kid, my name’s Brendon.” The kid said. “And you are Gerard. Ryan talks about you all the fucking time…”
This was such a strange kid, Gerard thought. Fucking strange.
“Where you come from?”
“Vegas.” Brendon said, looking up at the sky again.
“You came here from Vegas…how?” And did he really need to ask that question? Did he really want to know?
“Flew, I guess…” Brendon said looking puzzled by this whole thing, but not freaked out.
“Right,” Gerard answered.
“You don’t believe me,” Brendon said, but he didn’t seem offended by it. Like he dealt with this shit on a daily basis.
“Would you?”
“Totally.” Brendon answered.
“So…what are you going to do?”
“Go home, I guess…”
“By flying?”
“Ahm…” Here he looked at Gerard and scratched his head. “I don’t really know how it works.”
“What?”
“I mean…it just kinda happens…when I’m sleeping. I never went this far before.”
“How old are you?” Gerard asked, because fuck, he needed to send that kid home.
“Seventeen…my birthday was in April.” Brendon answered.
“We need to call your parents and maybe we should get a ticket back home to Vegas for you. Tomorrow.”
“So, are you taking me home?” Brendon asked and Gerard had thought that there was something really cheeky in his eyes. Fuck, he thought.
~+~
The next time he saw Brendon was with Pete Wentz a few years later, who was making his little brother crazy and also Gerard for that matter, and the thing with Alicia, he got headaches just thinking about them. He didn’t recognise Brendon at first but then Brendon had looked up and grinned at him and Gerard knew that it wasn’t a weird ass dream at all. He said something to Pete and Pete looked in his direction and smiled and then Brendon went straight for Gerard.
“Hi,” he had said.
“Hi…”
“I…you remember me?” Brendon asked.
“I don’t.” Gerard lied instinctually, because he was fucking pissed at this kid. He was so fucking worried that last time when he woke up in the middle of the night and then checked up on the kid, who just wasn’t there.
“I’m Brendon…my band is Panic at the Disco, we are here with Pete.” Brendon said, his voice cheery still, but Gerard could hear something beneath it. Something like regret. And Brendon was older now. Nearly twenty and he looked cute and Gerard was not in the mood for this shit.
“Good for you,” he answered.
“Maybe you could come watch our set…?” Brendon has asked and Gerard was this close to telling him no, but he said ‘maybe’ instead and Brendon had smiled that stupid blinding smile of his.
He didn’t go after all. Not on that tour.
~+~
He dreamed about Brendon for the first time after the tour was over. He woke up with a gasp and then he heard something breaking in his living room, so he got up to investigate, only to find a figure hidden in the shadows.
“Hi…I really don’t know how it works,” Brendon said.
Gerard took a breath. “Where are you supposed to be?” Because he knew that Panic where big and touring all the time.
“Home…Vegas.” Brendon answered. They were standing in the dark living room and Gerard didn’t know what he should do with himself or Brendon or this whole situation.
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know, I’m not even sure where here is.” Brendon answered, sitting down on the floor. Gerard switched the light on and looked at Brendon, who was wearing just his boxers. “It’s hot in Vegas, okay?” he said, as he caught Gerard’s eye on him.
“Sure, want some coffee?”
“Yeah,” he answered and Gerard crossed the room to make coffee in the kitchen. When he came back, Brendon was still sitting on the floor, looking through the window at the dark sky. “You never came to see us play,” he said quietly, taking the mug from Gerard’s hand.
“No, I didn’t.” Gerard suddenly felt like a dick.
“Why?” Brendon asked, looking from the window to Gerard. Gerard sat down on the couch and sighed. There were a few answers to that: Because I was pissed at you, because you are too young and I feel like a creep and…yeah, but he couldn’t tell Brendon that.
“I was busy,” He said and Brendon nodded like he knew it was a lie. Gerard wasn’t a good liar anyway.
“Can I stay here? I have the money to…well, not right now, but I could book a flight in the morning?”
“Yeah,” Gerard said, because he couldn’t throw that kid out without money and clothes.
He lay awake that night waiting for Brendon to disappear again, but instead he heard soft snoring drifting from the living room.
In the morning he drove Brendon to the airport in his borrowed, too big clothes.
“I’m sorry.” Brendon said.
“For what?”
“For disappearing the last time…I don’t know how this works.” Gerard gave a short nod, because he felt stupid for being pissed at Brendon over something like that. Brendon smiled and then he ran off to catch his plane.
~+~
It was a hotel night during the Black Parade tour and he was about to drift off when he heard the soft ‘fuck!’. The room was dark, but he could see a figure against the window trying to get up from the floor.
“I wish I would land on something soft from time to time,” Brendon whispered to himself.
“Brendon?”
“Gerard?”
“Yeah.” He switched on the lamp sitting on the bedside table, and looked at Brendon who was wearing just boxers again.
“Thank god it’s you…” Brendon said, as he shivered in the soft light and relative cold of the room.
“Where do you need to be?”
“We’re on a break right now…but actually at Jon’s in Chicago. Where am I?”
“Fuck if I know,” Gerard answered, rubbing his eyes. This shit had to stop. Soon.
“Oh…”
“I need to sleep.” Gerard said.
“I’m sorry…”
“Come here idiot. It’s the middle of the night.”
“I…”
“This is the only bed and the couch is really small and there are no extra blankets…but suit yourself.” Gerard answered, yawning.
“Okay,” Brendon said.
“Okay,” Gerard made room for him and Brendon lay down beside him.
“Night,” Brendon said, his breath was ghosting over Gerard’s skin, he suppressed a shiver. This was always easier to ignore when he didn’t see Brendon.
“Night Brendon.”
In the morning he loaned Brendon a few of his clothes and offered him a ride to the airport.
“It’s not like I have better things to do anyway.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
“No problem,” Gerard answered and he meant it.
Brendon hugged him before he went off to catch his flight. Now, Gerard thought, now he knew how Brendon smelled and what he felt like. It was a nightmare.
~+~
He saw Brendon a few weeks later when they played Chicago. Brendon was standing backstage and it surprised Gerard but then Mikey said something about Pete and Panic being in Chicago and that he thought it would be okay and Gerard had nodded, because yeah, that made sense.
Afterwards they went for a drink. Brendon sat down next to him and talked about all kinds of stupid stuff and Gerard thought that it was fucking nice and easy, but that Brendon was still a kid, not even able to get a drink legally yet.
Brendon went outside with him for a smoke and then he just kissed him; backed him up against the wet brick wall and kissed him softly and hesitant and before Gerard could think about it too deeply, he kissed back.
“I always land where you are.” Brendon had said afterwards as he was leaning against the wall.
“What?” Because Gerard didn’t understand.
“The first time, when I landed on Mikey’s lawn…that was the first time I did it at all, okay? I lied to you, it was the first time I dreamed about you…” he said, his face a bit red. Oh, Gerard thought, oh, one of those dreams. “Ryan was talking about you…and showing me pictures and then I heard you sing and …” he said looking up and at Gerard, Gerard let the smoke out of his lungs and kissed him again.
Brendon smiled like the fucking sun.
~end~